


Songs of War

by junko



Series: Closing the Distance [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 07:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14636982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: Byakuya attempts to socialize with his Division.  Luckily, Renji is there to help.





	Songs of War

Things would be going a lot better, Renji thought, if Byakuya wasn’t sitting there looking so forlorn. 

Or, if anyone were talking.

Any. One.

Instead, Nanako and the Fourth Seat, Daisuke Miura, sat hunched over their bowls of rice and sashimi acting like they were terrified to make eye contact with the captain. Not that they could. Byakuya’s eyes were firmly downcast.

Not only was no one talking, they weren’t even looking at each other.

Renji rubbed his face in despair. If this was any indication of how it was going to go at the engagement party… Renji let out a sigh and tried another conversational gambit, “So--any word from your head gardener about when the cherry trees might be in full bloom, Captain?”

Everyone looked up, expectantly. 

For his part, Byakuya nodded. “The buds are fully formed. He expects peak in about a week. I was thinking we would open the estate some time in the next few days. I understand your office just finished procuring a full complement of shinigami bodyguards for the hostages already, so as soon as that’s sorted the festivities could begin.”

Renji nodded. “Are you going to try to deal with that whole thing with the Second before the Hanami?”

“Oh,” Byakuya said, glancing up at Renji for the first time. “With the clan war, I’d completely put that out my mind. What do you suggest, Lieutenant? Is it something easily done?”

Renji got up to brew some tea. As he clattered around in the cabinets searching for their best tea stash, he said, “Well, for you and Senbonzakura, I’d say yeah, you could do it in an hour. You’re plenty strong. You ain’t gonna need me to carry you home.” 

Finding something marked ‘the good stuff’ in the far back, Renji opened the tin and took a sniff. Whatever it was, it wasn’t tea, so he put it back. 

Finally finding a box with a Human World label, Renji pulled it out. Setting the tea box on the counter, he plugged in the kettle. He turned it on with a click of the tab. Turning around as he waited for the water to boil, Renji leaned against the counter. “I dunno about the rest of the Division, though. One of us should probably tell Captain Soi Fon that she’ll have to wait. Everyone’s going to be away. Those that are here need to be able to stand duty.”

“I will speak to Soi Fon when I go in the morning,” Byakuya said. “Is it truely that harrowing?”

Nanako had set her chopsticks down and visibly paled. Miura clutched his bowl and stared at his rice, like he wanted to crawl into the food and hide. 

“I really don’t recommend it for anyone who isn’t 100% ready for bankai,” Renji said honestly. “I’m kind of surprised it’s legal. I mean, the device they’ve got pulls your zanpakuto spirit right outta ya. It’s disorienting as fuck, even when it’s something you can already do for yourself.”

When Renji heard Nanako gasp, he at first thought it was because of how horrible the idea of the machine was. Then, he saw her give Byakuya a nervous glance and mouthed, ‘language!’

“Oh, sorry about the swears, sir,” Renji said for the Seated’s benefit.

Byakuya frowned like he had no idea what the problem was and waved it off with, “Renji, I may be a noble, but you know full well that I grew up among soldiers and have been in service as soon as I could properly carry a katana. Strong language is part and parcel of a soldier’s life. I’m far more concerned about what this device will do to the ability of my Division to function. Surely, the Second has more traditional methods to uncover Aizen’s trickery.”

Renji shrugged. “I dunno, sir. Aizen’s trickery is pretty dang tricky. I don’t even know how post-hypnotic suggestion is even supposed to work. It’s what they said they needed to do. Captain Soi Fon didn’t seem willing to negotiate.”

Behind him, the electric tea kettle clicked off. Renji turned around to pour the boiling water into the teapot he’d prepared. As the tea steeped, he pulled out a bunch of mugs for everyone. Most of the cups were souvenir and novelty coffee mugs from the Human World with pithy sayings on them. He peeked into the cups’ interiors, searching for the least grungy.

“I find it difficult to believe that crippling my Division is the proper response to this crisis,” Byakuya said. “If they’re going to torture anyone for the information, why don’t they go to the source?”

Renji couldn’t help the dark chuckle that came out. “The source? As much fun as that sounds, Taicho, I don’t know anyone who has the balls to approach Aizen within a hundred feet, much less come at him with a thumb screw. He’d melt you with his reiatsu!”

Byakuya took the mug that Renji offered him. By chance it read, “World’s Best Boss” in English. “Oh for heaven’s sake, if that were true Ichigo would never have defeated him.”

“Ichigo was in super God Mode, from what I hear!” Renji scoffed.

“Yet Kido restrains him now,” Byakuya snipped. “Aizen Sousuke is not, despite what he would have us all believe, unstoppable.”

Byakuya did have a point there, Renji conceded as he fetched the teapot from the counter. The Fourth Seat reached for it right away and started pouring for everyone, starting with the captain. It was kind of adorable the way his hands shook. Renji held back a fond smile; it was obvious that Miura was deeply honored to be able to pour Byakuya’s tea. This was the sort of thing Renji had wanted from this little visit.

Renji sat back down in the Western style chair and took the tea Miura offered him. His mug read ‘This is my meeting mug. When it’s empty, we’re done here.’ The picture was of an angry looking cartoon cat.

“Still,” Renji said after taking a sip. “I somehow don’t see Captain Soi Fon getting much outta Aizen, even if she tried.”

“You may be right about that,” Byakuya said with a cautious taste of tea. He frown a little a the mug and set it down.. “Even so, I will not stand for the indiscriminate torture of my Division and their zanpakuto. There must be another way. Perhaps the former Captain Urahara has some method?”

“You think Soi Fon is going to want to work with that guy?” Renji wondered. “He’s an outlaw. She’d probably arrest him for looking at her funny.”

“They hate each other,” Miura agreed. “She used to stalk him when he was the lieutenant over there.”

“You come to us from the Second?” Renji was surprised. He thought he was pretty well up on the jackets of most of the Seated Officers under him. He would have sworn Miura had transferred from the 7th.

“Nah, I used to date a guy who… uh, was… familiar with the Maggot’s Nest from back when....” By the time he’d finished his sentence Miura was bright red. “I mean, he’s better now. That is, uh… he’s serving with honor at the Twelfth.” 

Serving with honor at the Twelfth seemed like a contradiction in terms, but Renji wasn’t going to argue. Surely, not every guy over here was some kind of man-made freak of nature. 

“You dated Akon?” Nanako asked Miura, leaning in, clearly curious. How she’d put any clues together to come up with that, Renji had no idea. Was the 12th’s Third Seat really a convicted criminal who’d spent time tin the Maggot’s Nest when Urahara was warden? And, if so, why did Nanako know that?

The Fourth Seat, meanwhile, leaned away and glanced around as if trying to judge the distance to the nearest exit. “I like… smart people? Plus...horns are… cute?”

“You like horns on people?” Renji couldn’t help but ask.

“There’s nothing wrong with it---” Mairu started.

“Absolutely, there is not,” Byakuya agreed firmly. He hands cupped he mug as if for warmth and his averted eyes seemed to stare into the depths of the tea. “One likes what one likes. There’s no shame in any of it.”

The conversation, which had been going fairly well, all things considered, screeched to an awkward halt at Byakuya’s pronouncement. Everyone, Renji included this time, went back to silently eating or drinking and keeping their own counsel. 

Renji wanted to start up another conversation, but all he could think of was: Hey, who knew my Fourth Seat was gay? And also into horns… wasn’t there a word for people like that? Or did you have to like horns and tails to be the thing Renji was thinking of? And, anyway, Byakuya was right, the guy’s private life was his own, but still--how did you find out something like that about yourself? It wasn’t like there were a lot of guys running around the Seireitei with horns. You’d think the dating pool would be very small, if that was your big kink. You’d kind of be stuck on a 12th Division rotation.

That’d get old fast.

Those guys were crazy. You wouldn’t want one of them as a bitter ex. You’d end up with an extra arm one morning or maybe a bomb in your guts.

Still, it wasn’t like Renji didn’t know people who used to only want to date guys from the Eleventh. Talk about crazy exes. Renji could remember half a dozen drunken raiding parties that started with the line, “And they still have my…” precious something, which was really just an excuse for a bunch of guys to go wreck someone’s barracks out of revenge. 

Man, those guys at the Eleventh were the kind of dumb where they’d carve their name on the wall and be surprised when the 9th Division showed up the next morning asking about some property damage.

“Smart is good,” Renji said finally. He’d finished his tea, so he stood up. “I’ll walk you back to the estate, shall I, Captain?”

“Yes,” Byakuya said, standing up. “Thank you.”

They made their goodbyes. The Third and the Fourth Seats both stood up and bowed deeply. Nanako gave Renji a secret smile, like she knew that his offer to walk Byakuya home meant he was going home with Byakuya. Mairu’s expression was more happy bafflement, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck at getting to spend casual time with the usually aloof captain.

Once they were some distance from the lieutenant’s office, Byakuya let out a small breath. “That went well.”

Renji glanced over to see if Byakuya was being sarcastic. Unfortunately, after having put on ‘company manners’ for his officers, Renji ended up falling back to the semi-formality of walking a step behind and to the left. “You think?”

“It took awhile to break the ice,” Byakuya admitted thoughtfully. Lanterns hung from the porches of the various administrative buildings they passed. A full moon hung low and large the sky, just over the tiled rooftops. “You have such a way with people,” Byakuya continued. “I admire you.”

Renji laughed. “I had no idea my Fourth Seat was a closet furry. I’m no good with anyone.”

“I’m not sure he’s technically a furry,” Byakuya said. “The man likes horns. He mentioned nothing about fur or any other animalistic attribute. If liking animalistic traits is all it takes, then I’m a furry.”

Renji’s shocked reply was louder than intended, “What?!”

“Hush,” Byakuya clucked his tongue. “You can be such a prude, Renji. I think you would great with a pair of little red foxy ears and a tail. I’ve seen toys like that.”

“No foxes,” Renji said vehemently. “I’d do tiger, but not a fox.”

Byakuya slowed unconsciously at the thought. Renji nearly ran into the back of him.

“A tiger’s tail,” Byakuya said in a tone that implied he was imaging exactly what that might look like. “My, my. Wouldn’t that be something to see? And a tiger in chains...? Be still, my beating heart.”

Renji’d been getting a little excited at the thought until that last line. In fact, his brain was still kind of trying to parse it. “Did you literally just say ‘be still, my beating heart’?”

“You know I hate repeating myself, Renji,” Byakuya said. “Besides, it was meant in jest, a note of humor to quell my desire to pull you into a nearby alleyway and ravish you.”

Renji glanced around for a suitable place. Then, seeing the patrol passing nearby, he shook his head. “Yeah, no, we can’t do it on the Division grounds.”

“Would you really be up for round two, again, so soon after?”

“Uh.... Always?”

Byakuya let out another little sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if marrying you is such a good idea. I’m not sure I have the requisite stamina.”

#

Despite his big talk, Renji fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. He hadn’t even managed to undo his topknot.

It was just as well, Byakuya thought, tucking the blanket around the bulk of Renji’s shoulders as he slid under the sheets beside him. It would be difficult to have an evening that was anywhere near as satisfying as this afternoon. 

Besides, tonight was always the night when Hisana’s final words returned to him. Staring up at the ceiling, Byakuya pictured that moment in the sunroom that was just below them, still shuttered and unused some fifty years later. 

They had brought Hisana there, knowing that her time was short. He had wanted to give her a last moment surrounded by the beauty of the gardens in spring bloom. And, the flowers had not disappointed. Never since had the garden been so lush so early in the season. The smell of plum blossoms perfumed the air.

_I’m very sorry I couldn’t return Byakuya-sama’s love._

She had always known.

Despite how carefully Byakuya had kept his demon from her, Hisana had known that there was a part of him that she could never satisfy--a secret part of him he hid out of shame, thinking it sick and deranged.

She died believing that it was her fault that they weren’t closer, that it was something lacking in herself that had kept Byakuya’s heart partly closed off.

Byakuya laid a hand on Renji’s waist. 

The biggest shame of all was that Byakuya’s demon had been so wrapped in shame and self-loathing that it had nearly ruined another chance at love. Byakuya gave Renji a soft pat. At his touch, Renji rolled over and tossed a heavy arm across Byakuya’s torso, pinning him down. Rather than resist it, Byakuya turned into Renji’s body, spooning.

Byakuya would be damned if another lover died apologizing.

When Renji snorted some mumbling dream into Byakuya’s ear, Byakuya smiled. Renji at least, was far more likely to go down cursing.

#

Renji woke up alone. 

“Shit,” he spat, sitting up. Scratching his head, he realized he’d left even left his hair up. He tugged it down angrily. It came loose with an achy, heavy feeling in his scalp. He ran his fingers through his hair, massaging his head. “Double shit, fuck. Gods damn it.”

He hadn’t intended to fall asleep like that last night. They’d been flirting and everything! But, the bed had been warm and soft and Byakuya always took so fucking long to get ready to sleep. What does that man even do? He was already in his bed clothes, what the hell had he needed to fuss over before hitting the sack?

Renji dug at the more stubborn parts of his hair, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered. He was just going to have to put it up again, anyway. He pulled out a handful in front of his face. Damn stuff was getting hella long. Thick as fuck, too, Renji amended as his fingers hit another snarler. 

If Byakuya didn’t like it so much, Renji’d consider trimming it.

Though, to be fair, the only place he knew to go was the barber’s that the Eleventh used for their new recruits. Too many of them come up from the Rukongai, so the barber wasn’t so much of a ‘stylist,’ as a guy with restraints and a razor. Renji’d had to fight to explain that he didn’t have lice or fleas. They could check him if they wanted, but Aizen’d never put up with that. More to the point, he and Rukia had taken care of it all at the first decent District they’d hit. They hadn’t been sure if Academy would let them in if they were flea-bitten mutts, and they weren’t gonna give Academy an easy excuse to bounce them. Same fucking reason they stole shoes, too.

Renji pulled his hair back into place with a grunt. 

Sitting in bed for a second, feeling the luxury of the warm silk on his bare skin, Renji thought about how much of a shock this place must have been for Rukia. They hadn’t been in school for more than a year or so before she’d been whisked off to the Kuchiki estate. At that point in their lives, Renji was still jumping at shadows and getting used to not having to steal everything. His body was busy making up for centuries of malnutrition and so was hungry all the damn time and growing like an awkward, gangly, angry weed. He was grateful that he’d been good at school, in the elite class, because it gave him a place he knew he belonged. So much of the rest made him feel like an outsider, an interloper. Rukia, meanwhile, never had a special clique--no wonder she jumped at a chance to have a ready-made place, status.

Except, it must have felt so alien.

Renji’d been sleeping in this bed for a year now and sometimes he still felt like he was tracking dirt into the place. At least he finally knew Byakuya wanted him here for more than just sex.

A soft rap at the door brought Renji to his feet. He had Zabimaru in his hand, when his brain finally registered that Eishirō was saying he was coming in. Frantically, Renji tossed Zabimaru on the bed and flung the covers over himself. “Oi! No need! Byakuya’s not here!”

“No need for tea, Lieutenant?” Eishirō asked. He knelt in the doorway with a heavy tray. Renji could see that it seemed to contain tea and breakfast… for one.

“Did he send this up?” Renji let go of the blanket he’d been clutching to his chest. “He totally sent this up, didn’t he?”

“Before he left for the Second, his lordship asked that I wake you and make sure that you are fed in time for your afternoon shift.” Eishirō seemed to decide that he’d been given permission to enter and picked up the tray to bring it over to the bed. Renji had wanted to tell him to leave it, but Eishirō was already tucking the footed tray around Renji’s lap. 

Renji felt himself blush at the casual intimacy and service. Worse, Eishirō seemed to think he need to pour Renji’s tea for him.

“I could do that myself, you know,” Renji muttered, picking up the freshly poured bowl.

“The master asked me to take care of you,” Eishirō insisted. He glanced around the room and seemed happy that Renji’s uniform was all in a single pile on the floor near the tansu. “I’ll have this freshly laundered. And the sheets?” 

Renji’s blush deepened, but he shook his head. 

“Ah.” Eishiō seemed a little sad, like maybe he was disappointed on Renji’s behalf that he and Byakuya hadn’t done it? “In the meantime--” Renji hadn’t noticed his favorite flowered robe draped over Eishirō’s arm, until he unfolded it and laid it out on the bed. Picking up the pile of clothes from the floor, Eishirō added, “I will have these returned by the time you’ve finished breakfast.”

“You don’t gotta do all th--”

Eishirō raised a hand. “It is my profound pleasure, Lieutenant Abarai. Not only was it his lordship’s request, the staff also knows what you did for Aio.”

Just when Renji didn’t think his face could get any hotter. “Oh, well, I mean, I couldn’t just stand by and watch.”

“Yet many would,” Eishirō said simply, as he folded up Renji’s uniform. “Moreover, your… influence on his lordship is quite evident in the fact that Lord Kuchiki not only gave Aio paid leave to recover, but he… personally apologized for his aunt’s behavior.” There was something in the way Eishirō stressed ‘personally’ that Renji wasn’t quite understanding. At Renji’s blank look, Eishirō reiterated. “Lieutenant, you should know that no Kuchiki clan head has ever, in recorded history, apologized for inconveniencing their staff in any way. Apologized. I thought Aio might die to see a Kuchiki bow to her.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. You saying Byakuya Kuchiki actually bent his head?” Renji couldn’t even picture it.

“That **is** how one apologizes, Lieutenant,” Eishirō snarked dryly. A slight smile played on his lips at Renji’s no doubt deeply shocked expression. “Yes. So, please, eat like a king. Our King. In fact, Miki tells me she has as much as you’d like for seconds.”

#

Even though Byakuya still had a few days before he officially returned to duty, he wore his captain’s haori to the Second. He’d considered dressing in Kuchiki finery, but, without the kenseikan, he was uncertain if that buffoon of a lieutenant, Marechiyo Omaeda, would recognize him. More to the point, the wording of the summons had specifically requested that Byakuya bring Senbonzakura. He could hardly stroll the streets of the Seireitei in civilian clothing, fully armed. Any passing Gotei soldiers would assume he was on clan war business and arrest him.

Byakuya would not suffer the humility of an arrest ever again.

In fact, he loathed returning anywhere near the vicinity of this wretched Division. Byakuya knew it was his own overactive imagination, but he would have sworn that he smelled a hint of the prison’s antiseptic in the wind.

The smell brought with it a flood of memories, and, thus, before checking in with Omaeda, Byakuya made a detour to the Inmate Liaison’s office. 

He found the office quite easily, having had to make his way there several times before, on behalf of Renji when Seichi had been incarcerated. When Byakuya had been there in the past, there was often a queue of Seireitei tradesmen and women making arrangements for their loved ones. Apparently, Byakuya had come early enough that there was no line, though almost every bank of windowed stations was occupied. Byakuya waited for the next one to open. The harried looking attendant glanced up, and did a double-take to see a Division’s captain standing in front of his little window. He seemed uncertain if he should stand up, so instead he bobbed up and down before settling back, precariously, on his Western-style stool. “Uh, sir? Are you lost?”

“No,” Byakuya said. “You have a prisoner here named Ten.” Did he have another name? “Sometimes known as ‘Itachi,’ perhaps. The Weasel.”

“You’re talking about someone in the Maggot’s Nest?” Frantic shuffling of paper and a glance at his busy colleagues, as if hoping for an intervention. “Um, I can’t… that is, even conjugal visits aren’t allo--”

“I have no desire to revisit the Maggot’s Nest,” Byakuya cut him off. “I would like, however, to arrange to assume Ten’s maintenance fees. Possibly also those of….” Byakuya reached for the name of the gang leader of ‘the insane’ who had taken him in? After a few seconds, he came up with an uncertain, “... Miyamoto? If he yet lives.”

“Maintenance isn’t an issue for the Maggot’s Nest, sir,” the attendant said. “They aren’t fed.”

Byakuya stared at the attendant for a long moment. “I remember that fact quite well, thank you. I am telling you that I will pay to have them fed. Three squares a day. For the length of their incarceration.”

“Oh.” The attendant stared, wide-eyed and helplessly at his paperwork, and then back at Byakuya. “I’m going to have to get my manager.”

It was an hour and twenty minutes later that Byakuya finally made his way to his appointment. 

At least everything was sorted. He'd considered giving Ten an allowance for books, but Byakuya decided perhaps Ten enjoyed his little... side business too much. At least, Ten and Miyamoto would be taken care of--though Byakuya’d had to work to convince the manager that feeding Miyamoto was at all a good idea. Byakuya had agreed to a lower calorie diet in order to keep Miyamoto’s spiritual power in check. The man was a sociopath: he did not need a return to full powers… or even as much as the dampening powers of the Maggot’s Nest would allow.

The officer Byakuya met for his appointment did not seem the least bit put out by Byakuya’s tardiness. Perhaps someone had alerted him that Byakuya was at the Second, or perhaps he was accustomed to captains keeping their own schedules.

He introduced himself as Youji Sasaki but gave no rank beyond ‘officer,’ which led Byakuya to assume that he was kanritai, ‘management’--a member of the Punishment Squad, trained as a ninja… and a torturer.

Senbonzakura sang a song of war.

_Not until he gives us reason_ , Byakuya cautioned.

Officer Sasaki led them through twisted back hallways, each turn with a slight descent, until Byakuya put a hand on Sasaki’s shoulder to stop him. “I will not return to the Maggot’s Nest.”

“You’ve been?” When Byakuya refused to reply, Sasaki inclined his head slightly and said, “Be at ease, Captain Kuchiki. We are merely going to a room which abuts the prison wall.”

Byakuya did not release his grip. “To what end?”

“To take advantage of the spiritual pressure dampening stone,” he said lightly. “Also, it’s sound proof.”

That was certainly an ominous thing to say. But, in close quarters with the full power of Senbonzakura at his disposal, Byakuya had a difficult time imagining that he would be the one screaming. If this man wanted to make it difficult for himself to call for help, so be it.

Byakuya let Sasaki go and they continued on a few more turns. The room Sasaki unlocked was concrete block, not unlike a prison cell. For a brief moment, Byakuya thought that someone awaited them there but it was only a vaguely human-shaped object. 

“I’ve seen this somewhere before,” Byakuya said, approaching the tall, narrow, white doll-like device. “It is from the Shihōin Treasured Garments and Tools collection. Why is it here?”

“It’s on loan,” Sasaki said, settling down behind a wooden desk. He lifted a clipboard from the table and seemed to peruse it.

Byakuya continued to inspect the device. “I doubt it,” he said simply. “The Shihōin clan head is in exile.”

Sasaki didn't look up. “There’s a new regent.”

There was? “But your captain is still here, is she not?”

Sasaki raised his head. “What does Captain Soi Fon have to do with it?”

“Everything. The hostage exchange is a form of sakin kōtai,” Byakuya said. “If Yūshirō has been returned but Soi Fon is not, does that mean that the Shihōin treaty with the Fons has been broken?” Was everyone at war again?

Sasaki went back to his papers, as if this conversation bored him. “You know more about it than I do, sir. Now, if you could just put your zanpakutō into the device, we can begin.”

Well, it was useless to discuss such things with rank-and-file at any rate. Byakuya would have to talk to someone in the know. He’d planned to discuss things with Soi Fon afterwards. Now he would have an additional concern.

With a silent apology to Senbonzakura for unsheathing them for an unworthy cause, Byakuya thrust his zanpakuto into the doll-like device. A sudden burst of cherry blossom blades flared out, cutting Byakuya’s hand. Releasing the hilt, he stepped back in surprise and pain. 

Lifting his injured hand, Byakuya attempted to wrestle control of a single blade. A few responded weakly, but seemed pulled off course.

Senbonzakura seemed to struggle, too. The blades would materialize in a swarming cloud, but then the zanpakutō would pull them back in, only to burst outward again.

The discordant sound of Senbonzakura’s cries filled the room.

Senbonzakura was in pain! Despite the risk, Byakuya pulled Senbonzakura free. The arm of his shihakusho shredded. Blood from a thousand cuts dripped from Byakuya’s arm. “What is the meaning of this?”

Sasaki’s head peered up out from under the desk. He had several cuts on his forehead and cheek. “What the hell was that?”

Gesturing at the now blood spattered doll device, Byakuya asked, “What were you expecting to happen?”

Sasaki struggled back into his seat. He wiped blood spatters from the forms on his clipboard. “It always works. Why didn’t it work on you? The zanpakuto spirit is supposed come out, manifest separately from you. Independent.”

The last word Saski said made the most sense. Byakuya suddenly understood what had happened. He resheathed Senbonzakura. “This is no ancient Shihōin artifact. Someone has attempted to recreate Muramasa’s powers. Was it Urahara Kisuke?”

“Who is Muramasa?”

Byakuya’s mouth clamped shut. Technically, clan law barred him from ever speaking of either Koga Kuchiki or his zanpakutō to outsiders. He had already violated the injunction in his shock, however. Should he make things worse? No, despite everything, Byakuya still felt a compulsion to uphold the laws… or at least the spirit of them. 

“Our meeting is over,” Byakuya announced. “I will explain what happened to your captain, privately.”

#

Byakuya was shown to a spacious veranda that looked out onto a pine forest. The late morning breeze carried a strong but pleasant smell of the earthy, sharp scent of sap and fallen pine needles. A small table and a set of zabuton pillows were centered along the back wall of the veranda. Given no other direction by Sasaki, Byakuya chose a spot and settled into seiza to wait.

It was no more than ten minutes before Soi Fon shimmered out of flash step. She had clearly been training. Instead of her usual captain’s uniform, she wore the all-black of the ninja squad. She barely acknowledged Byakuya with more than a nod, before shouting into the interior, “Where’s the tea? You left Captain Kuchiki out here without tea?”

The sounds of scurrying followed her barking command.

“My apologies,” Soi Fon said, settling down opposite Byakuya. She did not sit seiza, however, but instead sprawled back, collapsing like Renji often did after a hard practice session. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes. “What is the problem now? Your Division is extremely troublesome.”

As if on cue, Sasaki appeared with the tea service. “It seems Captain Kuchiki is resistant to the Tenshintai.”

Byakuya lightly touched his heart with his fingertips, wondering if he could sense whether or not the seal remained intact. 

“Was, I suspect,” he said, letting his hand drop to his knee. Several of the cuts from Senbonzakura continued to ooze blood. It had been a long time since he’d been unintentionally wounded by his own zanpakutō. “Urahara’s little toy may have jeopardized the whole of the Seireitei.”

At that, Soi Fon snapped upright. She waved Sasaki off angrily. Once he was off the veranda and back inside, she turned to Byakuya. “Spill. Now.”

“Tell me first why he did it. Why would anyone intentionally mimic Muramasa’s powers?”

“I don’t know who Muramasa is,” Soi Fon said with a frown. “And asking me what motivates Urahara Kisuke is useless. All I know about that man is that he’s a complete cypher, unknowable and always dangerous.”

Byakuya wasn’t sure he disagreed, so he poured himself a cup of tea. “You have a specialized cell on your grounds with the name Kuchiki engraved over it. My uncle was your guest here, at one time, for the crime of murder and treason.”

Byakuya paused. He had never known Koga, personally. He had only the archive records to go by and so many of those entries had been redacted when the decision was made to strike Koga’s name from their history. What remained was sketchy, at best. The story those tattered records left behind showed a decorated soldier, one whom, it seemed, single-handedly turned the tide of civil unrest. Koga had been given commendations for his service and was appointed to lead a special force by the Captain-Commander himself. 

Yet, something had happened.

Something so terrible that the Kuchiki tried to erase him completely. But, they were enough afraid of his legacy that they left hints here and there--warnings and secret seals.

Byakuya touched his chest again. “Koga’s Muramasa had the ability to rip a zanpakutō spirit from its shinigami and control it. I can only guess that the shame of his crimes and the threat of suppressing his zanpakutō drove my uncle to madness. He mounted some sort of escape and went on a rampage, after which he was… subdued.”

“Killed?”

Byakuya shook his head. “Imprisoned.”

“Where?” Soi Fon’s demand was sharp.

“I don’t know. None of this was ever officially recorded. The Kuchiki family archives were purged, for the most part. I have only pieced together what I have because my lady aunt yet lives and, moreover, when I achieved shikai I was given special training and a Kidō seal that was meant to help mitigate Muramasa’s abilities. I was told it would never completely stop Muramasa, but that it would make full control of Senbonzakura more difficult. I was informed that I was to be a first line of defense in case of his return. It was then that I learned from my grandfather that my uncle yet lived… somewhere, under lock and key.”

“This is incredibly dangerous,” Soi Fon said. Her hands balled into fists.

“More so now that I believe I am no longer protected by a fully functional seal.”

“Gods damn it all, Kuchiki! Your family’s secrets will be the death of us all.”

“This is why it is no longer a secret, Captain,” Byakuya said with a sip of his tea. “I was sworn never to speak Koga’s name or to ever mention his crimes. I have broken my family’s laws again. Make this one as worth it as all the others, Captain.”

This seemed to mollify Soi Fon somewhat. She leaned on her pillow and slammed back a bowl of tea as though it were a shot of sake. “Well,” she said. “I suppose I should thank you for trusting me with this information.”

Not that it will do any of us any good, should Koga rise again, Byakuya thought. “I hear the Shihōin have a new regent? Has the heir returned?”

“Not yet,” Soi Fon said. “The clan appointed a regent in absentia. I guess they got tired of not having a voice at court.”

Byakuya wondered at the legality of all that, but he internally shrugged--each family to their own, and it wasn’t as though the Shihōin were well known for following traditions. “So they will attend the Hanami.”

“I guess,” Soi Fon said sounding disinterested. “Without the tenshintai, how are we going to find out if you’ve been put under Aizen’s spell?”

“About that,” Byakuya said, pouring himself a second bowl of tea. “Why not just ask Aizen?”

**Author's Note:**

> The nice thing about being in the timeskip is that literally nothing is known about it. There is no canon to diverge from. So, maybe next installment will involve a visit to Muken to see Aizen....
> 
> Also? The author's view of furries is that of Byakuya's. Ain't nothing wrong with nobody's kink/pleasure, and tails can be totally cute!


End file.
